


Lost and Found

by Eiress



Category: SPN/BTVS
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-03
Updated: 2012-05-03
Packaged: 2017-11-04 18:21:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/396812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eiress/pseuds/Eiress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Love returns to the one she thought was gone</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost and Found

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Supernatural and all related characters are copyright The CW Network/ Eric Kripke as Series Creator and Executive Producer. No infringement intended. Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel and all related characters are copyright Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Productions. No infringement intended. The author does not profit nor gain any monetary gifts for the story. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Dean sat at the bar playing with the neck of the bottle of his beer thumbing through a worn magazine, waiting on Ellen to finish assembling their burger. The sun was setting. The bar was empty and dark and silent as a grave--well, most graves anyway. Then it struck him. This night was such a great contrast to the previous one. 

Suddenly, someone was outside. 

Two pairs of shoes clomped and scuffled on the porch. He glanced up and saw her—them—they walked in. All of his muscles clenched at once. 

Adrenaline flooded his system. 

The magazine, his only shield, fell to the floor.

Faith looked him over and decided he wasn’t a threat. She turned her back on him and headed for the ladies’. 

Buffy paced in front of the door, not noticing him at all. She was arguing with someone on her cell phone.

She was there. Her face. Her voice. 

Dean shivered. 

She looked up for a second, smiled politely, and went back to chastising the poor, stupid schmuck on the other end of the line.

Blood rushed to his head and he gripped the edge of the bar until his fingers ached.

For a split second, he re-lived the pain. He saw her lips and heard her words. It flashed before his eyes—her grainy image projected into his mind like a picture that he long thought lost—rendered so real it splintered his bones. 

Buffy’s whole body had stiffened and relaxed, as if she were surprised by something, and then resigned to the reality of it. She looked down at her hands. Studied them absently, as if they belonged to someone else.

She looked up at and remembered the pain of the last year and a half. Buffy inhaled the cold air, dragging it deep into her body. She let it out. From between her lips, hot breath flowed down over her green cell phone, warming her hand. It felt good. She did it again.

She was running out of time.

Of course, it had been a long trip. They’d been on the road more over a day now. 

This rubbed Buffy the wrong way. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the significance of where she was. But somehow, it totally invalidated her long speech she had prepared and the lengthy, painful experience that had happened over a year ago. 

 

Buffy shook her head at their rotten luck and followed Faith through the creaking, beat up door. Right away, she noticed the filthy windows. Her mother had always been a clean window devotee. Then she saw the dirty, shabby curtains. Also, the last, thin veneer of paint remaining on the walls was peeling. Looking up, she confirmed that thick dust covered every surface not kept clean by regular human traffic, from the baseboards to the rafters. 

On the bright side, though, plenty of wood to be broken into stakes in here, if the need arises.

Then it hit her. 

It was him. 

A year had gone by without seeing him, thinking him dead. She was completely thrown off when Sam had called her when it happened. She was so nervous Faith insisted she go with her to play buffer if need be. Sharpened beyond even her normal hunting awareness by an ocean of stress chemicals surging through her veins, Buffy held her breath and tried to talk herself down. Maybe it was seeing him standing there after so long, but on the drive, she had a nightmare about Dean being alive a lie that it was a mistake, a shape shifter. Instinctive concern for him had her adrenaline levels pumped to maximum. 

Buffy's eyes shuttered and she shook her head. She so needed to relax.

She had been busy on the phone before they had come to the Roadhouse.

Distracted. 

She saw the lights from a distance and her heart had ended up in her throat as they got closer and closer. Her heart and mind stuck on one person. Would he remember her? Sam had said that he had lapses of not acting like himself but he had been there for when she came back from heaven and she was going to be there for him regardless of the pain it brought her. 

Taking a deep breath, Buffy nearly gagged on her own emotions what she wouldn’t do for a stiff drink before dealing with this but alcohol and Buffy were very un-mixy things.

Faith muttered something about locating the bathroom. 

Buffy nodded, her cheek brushing against the phone.  
She closed the phone and stood as the man at the counter stood, both eyes locked with each other.

Silence. 

He was in front of her and to the left, sitting on top of the bar. Exasperatingly sexy from head to toe, he stared at her. He was still rugged, cowboy-ish, and his clothes were still grunge Seattle mountain man. In other words, deadly chic without trying. Layered together, his black t-shirt and navy button down rode the line between form fitting and uncomfortably tight. 

Tension knotted her shoulders as she walked toward the handsome man, he was still stock still as she approached. Buffy peeked at the man standing opposite her. He was still staring. Assessing her. Undressing her. 

 

She spoke first, “Hello Dean, been awhile.”

His eyes held so much sadness, “It felt like an eternity.”  
He reached into his pocket, and held the photograph like a fragile piece of crystal, “Your face was the only thing that kept me sane.” 

On those words Buffy ran to him and took him in his arms, she peppered his face with kisses. “I love you Dean- and he lifted her and carried her to the back room and reaffirmed how much he loved his wife.

The End


End file.
